Read How to Keep Rolling After a Fall Online
Authors: Karole Cozzo
HW: Nice one. Who is your current book boyfriend?
KC: I don't have one (all of mine are so outdatedâI'm loyal that way âº), but I'm eager to hold auditions for the position! I'm particularly intrigued to read
All the Feels
, because I know you identified the love interest as your favorite book boyfriend ever after previously remaining mum on the issue!
HW: You definitely need to! Xander is pretty amazingâjust as amazing as Pax in his own wayâand I think you'll love him! Speaking of Pax, there's a great scene in the novel where he takes Nikki to sing karaoke. What's your go-to karaoke jam?
KC: Any song I'm NOT up onstage performing, ha ha! I can't sing any songs, seriously. But if you were to ask my friends, they'd tell you some really troubling tales about me performing songs by the late, great Notorious B.I.G. No, I'm not kidding.
“The Swoon Reads Experience (Continues!)”
HW: This is your second published novel. Did the publication of
How to Say I Love You Out Loud
change your life?
KC: Yes and no.
Yes in the sense that it brought a sense of accomplishment and completion. The goal of publication had been this underlying driving force in my life, and reaching that goal brought a particular sense of fulfillment and “inner peace” in this area of my life. I feel really happy and satisfied.
When it comes to my day-to-day life, though, not much looks all that different. As I mentioned in a Swoon blog post, life doesn't change overnight. Pursuing a career in writing is a slow, developmental process, and you certainly don't wake up finding yourself sitting atop the NYT Bestsellers list. I still work at my day job, and my family responsibilities are still central to my life.
When considering both sides of things,
How to Say I Love You Out Loud
officially made me an “author.” And that's a change that will never be undone, one I think I'll forever be thrilled about.
HW: What has been your favorite thing about being a Swoon Reads author?
KC: Well, I haven't worked with any other publishing teams, but I can't help but feel like the Swoon team and the fellow Swoon authors are a really special thing, my favorite part about being involved with this group. Everyone is so kind and supportive and relatable. I love that Swoon is a new endeavor itself, looking for new authors. We're all figuring things out together and going about the process in new ways. It's incredibly reassuring to work with a group like this, not at all intimidating. I truly feel like everyone shares in an author's excitement when it's his or her time to shine. I just love being part of the group.
HW: And we love having you! Was the editorial process for
How to Keep Rolling After a Fall
different from your first book?
KC: I think I had a lot more confidence going into it. You said something to me about having “good instincts” and that gave me a real boost. I definitely trusted myself more when crafting new scenes or revising old ones. I worried much less about making the book worse instead of better, the way I did with my first book, haha.
“The Next Phase of the Writing Life”
HW: If you could change one thing about your writing habits, what would it be?
KC: I wish I could slow down! I'm always in such a rush to get the story down on paper, and I have to force myself to take time with those less exciting scenes or transitions within a scene. I never want to lose momentum, and my writing time is precious to me. But, in the end, my writing would probably improve if I wasn't always in such a hurry. I think it's part of the transition from “storyteller” to “author,” and I've always felt like more of a storyteller.
HW: What do you want readers to remember about your books?
KC: I would hope that readers close the book saying “she writes about emotions honestly.” Sometimes emotions can be impolite, selfish, or even ugly things, and I don't shy away from that. Readers may not fall in love with every character I create or agree with their every action, but I hope readers will appreciate that they read like real human beings, flaws and all. It's my goal to inspire genuine, hit-you-hard emotional reactions when writing.
HW: Do you have any advice for aspiring authors?
KC: Do YOUR thing. Man, it's so easy to read something from a fabulous author and think “wow, that blows my stuff out of the water” or tend to incorporate some of his or her style. It's impossible not to compare yourself, and it's actually important to consider what it is about an author that makes him or her so successful. That being said, I'd say it's important to focus more on telling your story YOUR way. Ultimately, it's what you do that's new and different that will make you stand outâhave the confidence to embrace those aspects of your writing and push yourself to fine-tune them and articulate them until they're sharp and shiny. And trust that someone, somewhere will end up thinking that your stuff blows THEIRS out of the water.
Â
How to Keep Rolling After a Fall
Discussion Questions
Â
It's all fun and parties until someone falls in love.
Book One of the Dodge Cove Trilogy
Available now
Â
BY FRIDAY OF
the following week, Didi had done only three things: eat, sleep, and paint. Not necessarily in that order.
She started by painting his eyes, trying to find the right shade of blue to match how she remembered them. Van Gogh had a thing for blue too. So many shades, so little time. Eventually she moved on to the contours of his face, combining flesh tones like an alchemist in search of the perfect mixture when re-creating the angles and planes. His hair was the toughest part. She had to blend several types of brown, trying to translate onto canvas the right texture of softness she imagined she would have felt if she had given in to combing her fingers through it at the dock that afternoon.
As far as muses went, Caleb Parker was frustrating. She couldn't quite pin him down, and she knew she wouldn't see him again. They might both live in Dodge Cove, but they were galaxies apart.
She was in the final stages of her third attempt when the doorbell rang. With a jolt, she pulled her hand away. Good thing the brush hadn't made contact with the canvas yet, or there would have been a yellow streak across his face.
The bell rang again.
Aside from the occasional pizza delivery, the button beside the front door was hardly ever used. Had her mom forgotten her key or something? Not likely.
When a third ring reverberated through the house, she plunged the brush into the jar of turpentine she kept close and grabbed a filthy rag.
Another ring.
“Coming!” she yelled, rubbing the rag over her fingers to get as much of the paint off as she could. Despite neglecting the cleaning, her mother wouldn't appreciate paint on the doorknob. Which reminded her:
must clean house
.
As a final precaution, she rubbed her hand against her overalls. Once satisfied she wouldn't leave any oily residue, she turned the lock. Only when the door was already halfway open did she remember her mother's reminder of asking who it was first.
Might be some rapist or home invader
, she would always say.
As a safety precaution, Didi warned in her most threatening voice, “If you're here to rape me or invade my home, I have the nine and the one already dialed!” Then she threw the door wide open. Her lips formed an O when she recognized the person standing on the other side. “You're not a rapist or home invader.”
A sexy smile accompanied a raised eyebrow and the removal of aviator sunglasses that revealed those blue eyes she had been dreaming of all week. Damn. They were a darker shade than she had first thought. Or maybe it was because the light was different on her front porch.
“I certainly hope not,” he said in a mild tone that quickly shifted to serious. “What kind of neighborhood do you live in that you'd have to ask if you're about to get raped or invaded before opening the door?”
“The kind guys like you don't usually frequent.” She took him all in. Blue-striped button-down with sleeves rolled up to his elbows tucked into mustard ⦠“What are those pants called?”
He looked down. “Chinos?”
“I don't know what those are but you pull them off.” She crossed her arms and bit the tip of her pinky, enjoying the sight of him. Must have been the confidence in his stance and the way his eyes didn't waver when he returned her assessing gaze. No guys like him at the public school she went to. In fact, guys like him got punched in the face where she went. Well, maybe not Caleb. He looked like he could hold his own in a fight. She'd have to feel for herself to make sure, but from the way the clothes sat content on his frame, she could tell he sported a tight, lean body girls drooled over. Her mouth certainly watered. She wasn't ashamed to admit it. No harm in appreciating God-given beauty. She was a painter; she should know.
“What are you wearing?” he asked.
“My painting clothes,” she answered, still admiring him. How could she convince him to pose for her without seeming creepy?
“You paint?”
His tone confused her. “You're surprised?”
“Yes. It's something I didn't expect.”
“There are many unexpected things about me.”
“I'm starting to realize that.”
“Should I even ask how you found me?”
A sheepish grin lifted the corners of his lips. “I asked Tony at the country club.”
“Ah.” Direct. She liked that about him too. She dropped her arms in favor of tucking her paint-smeared hands into her pockets, hiding the rag as she did so. “Since you're here you should know what my next question will be.”
The grin turned into a fuller smile, but no teeth. “I have a proposal for you.”
“A proposal?” Her eyebrow twitched. Any normal person would have slammed the door in his perfectly symmetrical face for being so weird. In her case, she found herself intrigued. Why not? It wasn't like she had anything better to do that day besides painting and cleaning.
And job hunting, of course. But honestly, that wasn't going so well. People just weren't hiring. All the summer part-time gigs were taken already. Hence her being home.
“Can we talk inside?” he asked, pushing forward as if expecting her to give way.
She stood firm, barring him entrance. The house needed a general cleaning, and her paintings were drying in the living room. So, hell to the no. Hanging out inside for this proposal of his? Not gonna happen.
Her stomach growled, making the decision for her. She stepped out, forcing him back.
“I figure if you want me to listen to your âproposal,' you at least owe me lunch,” she said, pulling the door closed.
He raked those gorgeous eyes over her body again. He might as well have touched her from the way her skin pebbled from a single look. “Don't you want to change first?” he suggested.
She looked down at her paint-stained overalls and tank top underneath. Even without a bra on she had considered herself pretty much dressed. “What's wrong with what I'm wearing?”